Ghost Dance (Tulsa Thunderbirds Book 3) (7 page)

It’s a cold night tonight. I sure could use you in my bed to warm me up.

My fingers started to type in a response, asking for her address. That would be one surefire way of easing the bother of my boner. But for some reason, I typed in something entirely different.

Not tonight. Not interested.

After sending the message, I started my engine and drove myself home. That was probably the smartest thing to do, anyway. We had a game to play tomorrow.

SOMEONE RANG MY
doorbell. It was still dark out, and I definitely hadn’t rolled over yet, if it was even morning. I glared at the alarm clock on my nightstand, trying to make the bright red numbers come into focus. Not an easy proposition, since it was still dark, I was still half asleep, and I hadn’t had a drop of coffee.

The clock read 6:43.

In the morning.

On a freaking
Saturday
, when I didn’t have any plans for the day.

Whoever was outside my door had better be prepared to duck for cover, because I was sure as hell arming myself with something to throw at their head for waking me up so damned early.

The last couple of weeks had been crammed full of activities—work, the charity sled game last weekend, and a Christmas party with the other Para-Pythons. My time hadn’t been my own, even on my weekends off. But for the next ten days, my office was closed for the holidays, and I was supposed to get to sleep as late as I wanted.

I threw off the covers and transferred myself into my chair, remembering at the last second to drape a throw blanket across my legs. On my way to the front door, I grabbed a big jar candle and set it on my lap for easy access. It was more than heavy enough to do some damage, and I had some serious upper body strength—not just for a woman, either. The last few years of getting around in a wheelchair and a hockey sled had left my arms as strong as most men’s.

I left the chain locked, only undoing the deadbolt, and whipped the door open so I could peek through the crack.

Two sets of brown eyes twinkled at me—staring from about the same height as me.

“Do you wanna build a snowman?” my niece, Kennedy, said, in a perfect imitation of Anna from
Frozen
, with her older brother, Logan, at her side. My brother, Gray, stood behind his oldest two children. Logan was the eldest at eight. Kennedy, with her frizzy brown curls, was six.

“What are you doing here before the butt crack of dawn?” I demanded, still not undoing the chain. I was feeling way too grouchy due to my sleep being disturbed to give in to the cuteness. Yet. It’d happen soon, but I’d always had a hard time shaking off my sleep to join the waking world.

“It’s snowing,” Logan said, as if that explained everything.

I peeked past my brother and saw that, yes, indeed, there was some white stuff falling from the sky. “And?”

Gray laughed. “Maybe you’ve forgotten, since we’ve only lived in Tulsa for a few years, but in this part of the world, snow is still a rarity. Which means the kids want to get out and enjoy it while it’s still snow and not ice.”

“You three go right ahead,” I grumbled, wishing I’d stopped to put on a pot of coffee before answering the door. “Go grab your baby sister, while you’re at it. Three’s plenty old enough to get out and enjoy some snow, I think. I, on the other hand, have every intention of dragging myself back into bed and sleeping until a normal hour for a Saturday.”

“Aunt London,” Kennedy said dramatically. “You have to help us build a snowman.”

“Wheelchairs and piles of snow aren’t a good combination,” I groused. I could just see it now, trying to wheel out on the powder and sinking like a crate full of treasure.

“The bigger concern,” Gray said, redirecting the conversation, “is that since Tulsa doesn’t have snowplows and whatnot ready to go, the roads are going to be nasty in no time, and it would be suicide for anyone to get out in it. It’s not like when we lived in Wyoming.”

As much as I hated to ever admit my brother was right, this was one time I’d let him win. Last winter, the entire city had shut down for about four days when snow had blown in, because the temperature had warmed up so much during the day that it’d started to melt, but then it’d all frozen again overnight, leaving behind a solid sheet of black ice covering everything. I could drive in snowy conditions, but ice was another beast entirely.

I shook my head. “All the more reason for me to crawl back under the covers.”

“Except they’re predicting this storm is going to keep everything shut down for at least three or four days, just like last year,” my brother said. “Maybe longer.”

“Most likely longer,” I agreed, peeking again to see how much had already fallen. Looked like a bunch more was in store for us.

“So you’ll miss Christmas if you don’t come home with us!” Kennedy added, throwing up her hands.

Gray gave me his trademarked big-brother look. “You’re not missing Christmas. Mom and Dad are already at the house. The kids want to build a snowman as soon as there’s enough powder on the ground to try it. You can watch from inside and warm them up with hot chocolate once they come in. Just come on so I don’t have to be a jerk and carry you over my shoulder to the car.”

“I’d like to see you try it.”

“Oh, I’ll try it, all right. And I’ll manage it.”

I rolled my eyes and, sighing, undid the chain so they could come in.

Kennedy jumped onto my lap, singing “Do You Want to Build a Snowman” and picking up the jar candle. She held it up and stopped singing long enough to ask, “Whatcha doing with this?”

I wheeled us into the kitchen so I could finally get my coffee going. “Using it as a weapon.”

She snickered. “You gonna burn us?”

“Nope. I intended to bonk your daddy in the head with that for daring to wake me up this early on my day off.”

She nodded like that made perfect sense.

Logan headed straight for the living room and opened all the blinds to watch the snow.

“So why don’t I pack up a bag for you while you get yourself ready?” Gray asked, following us into the kitchen.

I shook my head. “Why don’t you get these two home so they’re safe from whatever idiots around here think they know how to drive in snow when they really don’t, and I’ll follow you in just a bit once I’ve had time to wake up and sort out what I need to do on my own?”

“There’s no reason you couldn’t just come with us. I specifically left Erin and Finn at home with Sierra so there’d be plenty of room for you and your chair.”

“Except I want to have my own car so I can escape as soon as it’s safe to do so.”

Kennedy giggled. “We’re gonna kidnap you.”

“I know you are,” I said, nodding vigorously. “So I need a way to unkidnap myself after a few days. Right?” I tickled her ribs until she climbed down and darted off to join her brother. The coffeemaker finished brewing, so I poured Gray a cup—in a travel mug, as a hint—before fixing one for myself. “I started my laundry last night and forgot about it. I can’t leave wet clothes sitting around for days, so I need to run them again and transfer them to the dryer. I need to figure out what to do with any food I’ve got in the fridge, in case I’m gone for several days. There are things I need to do before coming over, Gray. Besides”—I dropped my voice—“I’ve got all their Christmas presents in my trunk, all wrapped. I’ve got to bring my car with me, regardless of when I leave. So you might as well just load them back into your car and go.”

“You swear you’ll head over before too long?”

“I know how to drive in snow,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“It’s not
you
I’m worried about. It’s all the other idiots out there.”

“I’ll be on my way in two hours, tops. Pinky swear.” I held out my hand with the pinky hooked.

“Anything I can take out for you now? Need your trash hauled to the dumpster? Got an emergency bag with your medical supplies ready to go?”

“Emergency supplies are already in my purse, and more in the car.” I wheeled over to the trash can and pulled the bag out, tying it off. “Take this if it’ll make you happy.”

Within minutes, I had him and the kids heading out the front door, leaving me in peace so I could figure out what I still needed to do.

I hadn’t intended to move in with the family for Christmas. I’d thought I’d go over for most of Christmas Eve and return for Christmas Day, but otherwise, I’d hoped to enjoy my alone time.

Thanks to the weather gods, now all my plans were shot.

I wheeled myself to my laundry room and added more detergent to the washer so I could run that load again, then headed into my bedroom to see what I could get started packing. Good thing I loved my family—or at least most of them. My sister-in-law wasn’t exactly my favorite person in the world, but I put up with her because she gave me my awesome nieces and nephews. This was going to be a long few days with all of us in close quarters.

IF I’D BEEN
smart, I would’ve sent Gray down to the gas station to fill up my car for me before sending him and the kids home. Even with the hand controls I’d had installed, an able-bodied person could drive my car. They just had to pretend the stick I used for both acceleration and braking wasn’t there. Apparently, I had been in too much of a hurry to get rid of him, though, because the thought hadn’t crossed my mind.

That was why I was now pressing the Assistance button on the gas pump at the first open station I’d come to. Not many of them were open in this weather. I’d often seen snow coming down like this when we’d lived in Wyoming, but never here. For Oklahoma, this was practically a blizzard.

A crackling male voice came on over the intercom. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, that’d be great. I need to fill up, but I’m in a wheelchair. Can someone come pump for me?”

Nothing but static. For a long time. I pressed the button again.

“Sorry, miss. I’m trying. No one else came in today because of all this snow, and I’ve got a line of people…” His voice trailed off, and I could hear the beeping of the register in the background.

“Never mind. I’ll manage.” It wouldn’t be the first time I pumped my own gas. I just wasn’t looking forward to dealing with my chair in this cold weather. I’d rather stay inside my car.

“You’re sure?” the guy asked.

“Positive.” By the time he managed to get out and help me, I could be done and out of there.